Category: Family

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Those Beautiful Smiles

I have two children, and some days are a bit tricky… logistically. Today is one of those days.

At 8:50 I headed off to my oldest daughter’s school to find the parking lot completely full of vehicles. It hit me that perhaps on Flag Day I should have gotten there about 15 minutes earlier, but hindsight is 20/20. Instead of complaining, though, I simply parked in a non-spot and hoped no one hit me while driving through the parking lot. Once I got inside and saw the sign that said Morning Program would be in the gym, I finally got why the parking lot was full.

Flag Day is apparently a big deal here. I hadn’t thought about that when Alexa told me she was so excited about being a part of Morning Program on Flag Day. I saw it with my own eyes, though, when I walked through the pouring rain into the gym and saw the hordes of people sitting on the bleachers and in four rows of seats set up for the occasion. Then Alexa came in with her class, waving the tiny American flag, and I was so proud. In her other hand, like the Statue of Liberty, she carried a folder that said “Weather” on it.

From the front of the gym, she craned her neck to see me, and I stood and waved at her. It’s always incredible to see that smile, and to know that it’s for me. But then, after she focused on the program that was just starting, my eyes flicked over to the clock. I didn’t want to check it, but the time was already 9:15 and I had a sinking feeling the size of the program would overwhelm the time I had left to give. I was lucky, though, because at 9:20 Alexa stood up and gave the weather report, and she did a beautiful job of it, too. Then she introduced me to the group, one of my favorite parts of coming to Morning Program.

But then it was 9:30 and I had to go. I caught her attention, pointed at the clock and waved goodbye. Her part of the program was over, and I was lucky to have witnessed it, but as I got up to go and said excuse me on my way out, I encountered some looks of derision from other parents who were staying until the end, which by all accounts was probably not until 10:00. By 10, though, I had somewhere else I had to be because I don’t have one daughter. I have two.

So I dashed through the rain again to my car, which luckily hadn’t been hit, and took off for my youngest daughter’s school 30 minutes in the other direction, hoping I made it there in time for the special Father’s Day pancake breakfast they had arranged. I kept checking the clock on my dashboard, hoping the rain wouldn’t slow me down too much, and as I pulled into her school’s parking lot I saw I had two minutes to spare. I wasn’t late. I had made it to both important events in a very small span of time, and I smiled. Continue reading “Those Beautiful Smiles”

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Why Mom Can’t Be Dad (and why that’s okay)

dad_8tzp“Now ain’t nobody tell us it was fair. No love from my daddy ’cause the coward wasn’t there. He passed away and I didn’t cry, ’cause my anger wouldn’t let me feel for a stranger.” -2Pac, Dear Mama

Mothers are the singularly most amazing human beings on the planet. They give more of themselves than it seems possible to give,and then they give some more. So often a mother’s job is never done, because to her it is so much more than merely a job. It’s a calling. When her child screams out in the night, a mother’s ears are tuned to pick up on it and respond, even before she herself is awake. A mother seems like she’s in all places at the same time because she often has to be in order to take care of her myriad responsibilities.

A mother doesn’t complain, though, not even when she isn’t appreciated, because she knows complaining doesn’t get things done, and she has no time for excuses. But one thing a mother can never do is be a father, and that’s okay.

For the most part, I grew up in a single-parent home. My father was never around, but even when he was his mind was elsewhere. I had probably five, maybe six, solid, concrete moments with him when I was younger when he made a positive impression on me, but I have a plethora of those type of memories featuring my mother. I just saw her this weekend, and it’s amazing to me how fresh those memories still are, and how we continue to make those memories no matter how old I get. The bond between a mother and her children should be an enduring one, and it often is, but can it make up for the absence of a father?

I hear so many people extoll the virtues of single mothers by saying, “She was both a mother and a father to me.” But that can’t be true, can it? Expecting a mother to be a father is like asking an Irish man to be Chinese. That’s because we need different things from each parent, and while many of us make it through childhood just fine without a father, it doesn’t lessen the yearning for one, or fill the hole caused by his absence. Continue reading “Why Mom Can’t Be Dad (and why that’s okay)”

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What Dad Really Wants

As Father’s Day approaches (in just one week) I am reminded once again of making things for my dad when I was little. Small things really, like a paper tie, a pocket protector made from construction paper, a church made out of popsicle sticks, numerous cards I created myself, and the list went on. Most … Continue reading What Dad Really Wants

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The Sharing Game

children-sharing-sweetsDo you remember the Barney catchphrase, “Sharing is Caring!” and how he used to always espouse the joys you can get from not being selfish? Well, all of that was just an extension of your mother telling you that it’s always good to help out others who may not have what you have. And you know in the back of your head you were probably saying something like, “But it’s mine!” Well, I feel your pain, but perhaps your mother did have a point.

When I was a kid we lived at the end of a block of rowhouses in Southwest Philadelphia. Now, a rowhouse could have been seen as a detriment since the walls were so thin and were all connected, but my mother used the situation as an opportunity to teach a value lesson. She said that since our walls were “shared” we could share other things as well. I guess it was an attempt at helping to make a closer knit community in the middle of what was a depressed area.

And share we did, but it worked both ways. That’s the glory of sharing. Instead of being covetous of what someone else had, we took turns having it all. But in order to truly share you need two or more people who can understand the bigger picture. That’s why so many kids can’t share effectively without getting angry, possessive, or suddenly unsure about what taking turns really means. Continue reading “The Sharing Game”

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Disturbance at the Heron House: Volume 3

tumblr_lbajisxTfT1qc4y1yo1_500_large…and we were still waiting.

My wife heard back from the doctor a week after the testing was done to see whether or not Alexa had Cystic Fibrosis, and the word back was that the test was inconclusive. They would have to do genetic testing to see whether or not she tested positive, and in the meantime we would have to keep waiting. Over a month later and we were still in that holding pattern, completing the treatments twice a day, and dealing with the weight of knowing we were one step closer to our child possibly having CF, something we were supposed to be “simply ruling out” with the initial test.

And during that time period we worried. What you need to know about my wife is that in our relationship she’s the worrier on the outside, and me, I’m the worrier on the inside. I might look like I’m doing just fine, but underneath the facade I’m freaking out. In fact, sometimes I just sit still and shake because I’m so worried. It happened when I was so worried that Madeline might have DS, but then when she tested positive for it it was okay. I was able to deal with it, and I figured that would be the same way with Alexa and the possibility of CF. The possibility worried me a lot more than the actual diagnosis, because if the diagnosis came back that she had it then I could make a plan, then I could deal with it.

But Heidi, she worries from the start, and it shows on her face and in her demeanor. Reading about all the issues that children with CF have, she had driven herself into the cycle of “what if.” And don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying her way of dealing with it is wrong. It’s just different how we approach things, but we eventually get to the same place. If that place is acceptance, then we work on it, and if it’s a sigh of relief then we sigh at the same time. We were both preparing ourselves for the possibilities during that month, just in our different ways. Continue reading “Disturbance at the Heron House: Volume 3”